Be Good
by 1GuitarLover1
Summary: Set post-apocalypse. The cure for the walker gene has been discovered and distributed, and humanity is slowly recovering. Daryl Dixon wondered when he started referring to the apocalypse as 'the good old days'. A story about Daryl's struggle to adjust to the real world. Daryl x Beth
1. We're Alone In Our Own World

**AN- I'm sorry if there are a wild amount of inaccuracies in this story. I haven't actually watched all of TWD…eeek shoot me. **

**Just to be clear, this is set far after the end of season 4. Like, years later. More will be revealed…Enjoy.**

He quietly stalked the deer, watching his footing so he wouldn't step on a branch. The crossbow felt like an extension of his own body, as it always had. He held it to his eye and aligned the shot. The deer continued grazing, unaware it was about to meet its death.

And it did. His arrow was true and landed in the beast's neck. Daryl Dixon smirked and went to collect his prize. Approaching the animal, he withdrew his hunting knife and swiftly killed it. Just because he was hunting the deer didn't mean he wanted it to suffer any more than it had to. Dragging its carcass back to his house wouldn't be fun but it had to be done by someone.

And he was the only man around for miles.

Even though towns were slowly reforming, farms growing and buildings were rising, Daryl decided he didn't want nothing to do with it. He could hunt on his own. He never liked the company of others much before the apocalypse, and after seeing what it did to humanity he didn't particularly feel like hanging around any longer.

So he returned to where he belonged; his parents' dump of a house. In fact, when he did return there was hardly a house left to be seen. It had been raided numerous of times and Daryl laughed at the thought of strangers finding anything of value in the shithole. His old man probably had a stash of liquor somewhere.

He'd be lying if he said he loved be alone. That just wasn't true. The days passed by slowly and his nights were filled with a hundred different nightmares. They were all about walkers, or walkers getting him, or walkers getting the group. The usual post-apocalyptic nightmares.

He thought about the group so often it hurt. When he first left to be on his own, Daryl had passed the hours by building his new house. He did it the old fashioned way. He cut down trees, fashioned boards and nails and whatever he could find or make. It was hard, laboring work and it distracted him from all thoughts about his old friends. That only lasted for a few months though.

Now, he thought about them every day. He still remembers saying his last goodbye to each of them. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, harder than killing Merle. Merle had to die, there was no choice. But Daryl chose to exile himself and it hurt like hell to do it. He remembered Michonne gripping to him almost fearfully, like she didn't know how she could fight without him beside her. He remembered Glenn whispering, "Thank you for saving my life. Not just that one time, all the times," as they hugged. He remembered Carl staring at him. Daryl couldn't for the life of him describe Carl in that moment. It was as if part of him had just been ripped off, like a walker had bitten his hand clear off or something. He remembered Rick _crying_ and trying to hide it, remembered him saying, "Whenever you want, you come find us Daryl. We're you're family, you hear? We're you're God damn family." And he remembered Beth.

Yeah, he sure did remember Beth.

**AN – So I'm thinking of making this a short story, like a few more chapters long? Would anyone want to find out what happens next? **

**Let me know in the reviews **


	2. And You'll Hurt Me, Or I'll Disappear

**AN- Thanks for the positive response, enjoy the next installment.**

The beer in his hand is disgusting. Some farmer traded him a couple pounds of meat for it. Even if things were 'getting better' in the world, they were nowhere close to using money again. Mostly people happily shared what they had, or traded. His beer was made of old hops and cheap brewing, the real redneck kind. Definitely not worth the small pig he'd traded for it.

Daryl didn't even want to get loaded, not really. Drinking had never helped him in the past, before or during the walker war. He just felt like doing something habitual, something easy. Drinking the beer on the shabby porch he just finished making and letting the sun etch wrinkles into his skin, he felt like a miserable old prick. And that was definitely a well-known feeling for him.

It had been one year to the day since Daryl had seen his first walker turn back into a human. They called it rebirth. Those who got turned back were the reborn. After witnessing the apparent miracle for himself, Daryl had been pretty happy with letting everyone else set about sharing their knowledge. He started counting days then, trying to get back into a routine. No one around him knew the real date or month or anything, but they could guess it was around November when the cure was discovered.

He stayed to help distribute the drug for a while, knew he still needed to lend a hand. Seeing his friends overjoyed wasn't too bad either. Those weeks were probably the best of his life, travelling around the country side with the people he loved most. It had made saying goodbye all the more difficult.

He shut his eyes now, taking another dirty swig of the beer. Beth's angry, betrayed face jumped into his mind yet again, and he struggled to push the memory away. He hated thinking about it, about how unfair she had been and how he'd been even worse. But on a day like today, he could hardly keep his mind from wondering.

_Daryl stepped into Beth's room quietly, like it was any other night. He always visited her before he went to bed, if only to check she had made it back alright. But tonight was different, and everyone knew it. She was sitting at her desk, using a knife to etch lines into the moth-bitten wood. He cleared his throat to make himself known._

"_Just go already." She said distastefully, not turning to look at him, "I don't wanna hear it."_

"_Beth, c'mon." Daryl shuffled closer into her room and closed the door behind him._

"_What's left to say? I heard you talking to the others, I know you're leaving. So go on and get." _

"_Can't get a hug or nothin'?" _

_She sighed and pushed away harshly from the table. When she turned around, Daryl was expecting anger or hate, was ready for her to snap his head clear off. He wasn't expecting tear tracks down her cheeks, red eyes and fear. He sure as hell didn't know how to respond to it. Beth wasn't that girl anymore. Maybe, years ago, when she had stubbornly told him _I don't cry anymore, Daryl_, he would have been ready for tears. But she had hardened up, like the rest of them and now he felt like an even bigger asshole. _

"_Daryl, this is bullshit." _

_He shrugged, unsure, "I just need to be gettin' home, is all. What'd you expect to happen, huh?"_

"_I thought you'd stay here, with me. With _us_." _

"_It was never gonna be like that."_

_This sparked a little anger in her eyes, and she retorted, "Be like what? Like us together? Why is that so hard for you to think about? Damn it Daryl, I ain't a little girl anymore!" _

"_Yes you are!" He snapped, stepping forward, "You're 21 Beth, and I'm pushing 40. Ain't nothing ok about this. Even when the goddamn world was ending, what we was doing was wrong!" _

"_How would you know? We never were together!"_

_It was true. There had always been that strange connection between them, like running electricity. Always there, couldn't see it but you could feel it. Sometimes it seemed tangible, like Daryl could reach out into the air and feel his love for Beth in his hands. But he never crossed that line, and neither did she. Things came close, after Terminus, after so many other near-death escapes but Daryl didn't want it like that. And just because he loved Beth, and boy did he, that didn't mean he was in love with her either. _

"_Forget about what other people think then, girl. What about everything else? You got a whole life ahead of you, you gonna be something amazing and people gonna want to be with you. I've got a few good years left before I get too old to be anything other than a good shot and a bad attitude. We ain't going down the same paths, Beth, and we never will."_

_His speech had stunned the girl, and he was glad. Maybe now she would see reason. It wasn't all about her. It was about him too, about how he couldn't give nothing to the world no more. _

"_You're wrong." She said gently. She reached out to touch him and like so many other times, he pulled away, "We walking the same way, Daryl, like always. You, me, and the group. We walking down the same tracks."_

_But he couldn't listen to the hope and belief in her voice any longer. She really thought they could all stay together, live like one happy family. But life, the one thing that had held them together, would now pull them apart. Maggie and Glenn would start a family. Rick and Carl would go on together raising Judith. Michonne might be the only one to hang around, because she had no one left either. _

"_I gotta go." He muttered, turning away from her. _

_As he reached the door, Beth's voice stopped him and froze him in place, "You gonna leave me now, Daryl Dixon, and I never so much as kissed you." _

_It was the most tempting invitation he'd ever had from a woman, and he thought hard about turning back to Beth and showing her just how bad he wanted it. He didn't. _

_He left. _

The sun hurt his eyes and wish he'd thought to build a damn veranda. The crunching of boots on the leaves drew his attention. It was probably the town's 'sheriff', coming to check if he was still alive. But the crunch was too soft, the steps too quick to be that of the sheriff. He tried to see through the glare of the sun as to who it could be.

He could make out a thin figure, definitely a woman. Blonde, pale, and with a smile he'd know anywhere.

Roughly one year after Daryl witnessed a miracle, Beth Greene found him drinking bitter beer on a withered wooden porch.

**AN- Thoughts? Should I continue?**

**Reviews?! **


	3. We'll Lay In The Lawn

**AN- This chapter is a lot heavier with Daryl/Beth action. Thanks for the reviews, I love em! Good to know I'm getting the dialect right, I'm Australian so I'm just going off the show for how they speak haha.**

**Enjoy. **

For a moment he had no idea what to do, but then he was throwing away the stupid, disgusting beer and jumping off his stupid, disgusting porch and throwing his arms around Beth. She fell easily into his hug, wrapped her tiny hands through his hair and tugged as if they'd never been apart. There was a laugh in her breath and a soft curve to her body that left Daryl feeling exuberant.

"Daryl Dixon." She whispered, and her voice was still as maddening and beautiful as it always had been, "How bad did you miss me?"

And he had to pull back, to look her in the eye so she knew just how damn serious he was when he said, "So bad."

* * *

He showed Beth around his house, and she was impressed but not surprised that he had built it on his own. They spoke very few words to each other, but Daryl didn't mind that. He wasn't so great with words and they both knew it. He was happy enough just to be seeing her. And boy, he was sure enjoying the view.

Beth had always been attractive. Any hot-blooded male could see that. But now that she wasn't carrying around the weight of the war, the dirt or the pain or the fear, she was striking. She wore a dress, something Daryl had never seen her in. A dress wasn't practical when you were running away from a group of biters.

He felt embarrassed by his own clothes, realizing he was still wearing the same leather vest he'd worn for years on end during the war. He knew he wasn't as clean as she was either. He showered, sure, but she didn't have a speck of dust on her and he was covered in grime from his work.

"It's a nice home you have, Daryl." Beth finally said once they reached the kitchen.

He sat down at his make-shift dining table that he found on the side of the road and she took the opposite chair. He was overjoyed to see her, no doubt. But he didn't know why she was here and why she came looking now.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "I know you didn't come here to see some shack I put up."

She smiled, "No, I didn't. I came for you."

"How'd you even get here?"

"I drove." He raised his eyebrows at this and she let out a little laugh, "Rick's been teaching me."

"Well, ain't nothing changed since last time I saw you."

She looked down at her lap and frowned and Daryl felt like a prick. Again. "Whatever you say. I just missed you, is all. Thought I could maybe, I dunno…hang around, or sumthin'."

He thought of a hundred reasons why she shouldn't stay and one good reason why she should. He wanted her to.

"Yeah, alright. If you want."

She brightened up at this and stood up from the table. He watched her wearily, "Great. I'll just go put my bag in our room, then."

_Our_ room. Damn, he'd forgotten how crazy this girl could get. He couldn't deny how happy he was that she was here though. He didn't care why she came, how long she would stay for or how bad it was going to hurt when she left him.

She had reappeared in his life again. He would take what he could get.

* * *

Beth stayed with him two whole months. They spent the days hunting or working on the house. Sometimes they'd just walk through the trees for a while. Daryl showed her places from his childhood, like the lake that he and Merle would go down to whenever they felt like smoking, or the tree house his dad had started to build one summer when he decided not to be the world's worst father for a while.

And at night, Beth would help him skin whatever game they had caught and they'd cook it up. Beth had bought with her a deck of cards and they'd play together as the sun went down. When it got too cold to bear they'd get tangled up in every blanket Daryl owned and fell asleep on the floor by a dwindling fire.

They never grew bored of each other, never had nothing to say. Even if they were just being quiet, it felt like enough. They never talked about the real world or about the others. For two unbelievable months, it was like the old days.

It could never have lasted, and he was surprised it went on as long as it did. It was just after Christmas, closing in on the New Year when things changed. They were heading to sleep and Beth was cuddling up to him like always. But there was something different about tonight and he could already tell just by the way Beth clung a little tighter, pushed a little closer than normal.

There was a little moonlight coming in from the window, but otherwise it was dark in their bedroom. Beth's hand left the safety and familiarity of his chest and wondered up to hold his face gently.

"Daryl," she didn't whisper, like she didn't even know what shame was, "You love me, right?"

He grunted, too afraid to say the words aloud. Of course he loved her. It was a stupid, pointless question.

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

It wasn't a challenge or a dare, like she so often gave him. She was asking the question and expecting an answer and Daryl couldn't for the life of him think of something that wouldn't hurt her.

"Cause I'm…," he shifted, pulling Beth up higher on the bed so her face rested next to his on his pillow, "I'm _afraid_."

Part of him hated her for making him admit it and the other part was relieved that he could tell her something real. He had never admitted to being afraid. Rick, Michonne, Carol; they'd all had moments when they let themselves feel the fear. But Daryl was always the strongest, always fearless. And yet, the thought of doing anything to ruin this perfect thing he had with Beth made him terrified.

"You don't have to be."

She was looking right at him with those big, wide eyes. He felt completely exposed under her gaze and he realized that no one in the world knew him like she did. He couldn't hide shit from her, even if he wanted to. She moved closer yet again, pressing her forehead lightly to his. She would let this be his call, his move. He knew what she wanted, and he wanted it too. _Desperately._

"Daryl," she whimpered, her hand pulling almost painfully at his hair, "_Please_."

He thought he may have groaned right then and there and nothing had even happened yet. Their breathing grew heavy and it may have been freezing in that wooden sanctuary but Daryl felt hot all over. For a brief moment, as they sat on this precipice, Daryl was thrown back into the war. He saw his friends dying, Beth coming far too close to it and couldn't imagine rejecting her a second time.

He closed the small distance between them, their lips pressing hard together. It was more than he had expected, just how breathless it left him. Her entire, lithe body was aligned with his as they kissed and Daryl felt dizzy. Beth was pushing him onto his back and started to crawl onto his lap. She broke the kiss and the only sound in the air was their panting. The girl straddled his hips and the sight of Beth Green looking down at him with pure want and love was an image that would stay with him until he died.

The moonlight cast a gentle, blue shadow on her body and she was it. She was all he wanted. Her hands started at his stomach and slowly, achingly slowly pushed his shirt up his skin. All the while her eyes never left his, reminding him that this was more than desire or lust. It was everything they'd been through together over the last six years. He lifted the shirt off with her help then it was his turn. He tried to be gentle and show her how important she was until he just finally whispered, "I love you."

And then they were together, and he dreamt of only an endless, clear black sky.

* * *

Beth packed her things a week later. They sat together at the dining table, neither one wanting to be the first to speak up. He sure knew that he wasn't going to be the first one.

"Just come with me, Daryl." She said, "Ain't no reason you should stay here."

"Plenty reasons." He muttered.

"You're gonna rot away in this house. Why can't you just come home?"

He'd been waiting for someone to ask him this and he knew the answer, "Because I ain't worth nothin', Beth. What am I gonna do, huh? I can't do nothing for no one."

"Are you crazy?" she asked, astounded, "You don't know what you're saying."

That annoyed him and he sharply replied, "I do know. I been thinking about it for a year. I was nothin' before all this, but during the war? I was somebody Beth, people _needed_ me. I was everyone's best friend when there were walkers around! I was somebody people wanted on their side," he laughed and stood up from the table. He paced back and forth, angrily pointing a finger at himself, "And now I'm trash again. I'm good at shooting a crossbow. How's that gonna help anyone?"

Beth looked hurt and she shook her head, "None of that is true. You think everything's just gone back to the way it used to be? That people gonna judge you? You should hear some of their stories Daryl, they ain't pretty. People have done things they're ashamed of. Everyone's starting again, and you could too. You ain't even tryin'."

He huffed and crossed his arms, "Where am I gonna live? With you?"

Beth nodded, "Yeah, with me and Rick and Carl and Judith. You remember them, right? 'Cause they sure haven't forgotten about you."

Yeah, he remembered them. He missed them, too.

"But…but what am I gonna _do_?"

Beth groaned in annoyance, throwing her arms up, "What are you _doing_ now? You're doing shit all, that's what. But I'll tell you what you're going to do."

Now, she stood up and walked to him. Beth gripped his arms tightly and she had a slight smile on face, "You're gonna come home. You're gonna live. And we're gonna be happy."

And like always, she was right.

**AN- Woo, things going right for Daryl! Tell me what you thought! And more importantly, what do you think is going to happen next? **

**Will Rick take him back with open arms? Will everyone shame Daryl for his relationship with Beth? **


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